Haste makes Humor

I watch my granddaughter, Loula, everynight. My daughter (her mother) works during the day and goes to school at night. So, needless to say, I am very busy helping Loula with her homework and driving her to and from her after school activities. So at times, I can be somewhat stressed. Monday nights she goes to religion class. Our schedule goes as follows: I get home from work, Loula gets off the bus at 4:00, she does her homework, we eat a quick dinner and off we go the religion. While she is at class I usually do some needed shopping then head back to the parking lot early enough so I can get a decent spot to park. The Church is in a bad section in the city so there are always security and crossing guards.

As we rush out the door one monday (running alittle late as usual), I yell back to Bob to feed the cat and the dog (which in my haste, I forgot). During the drive Loula fills me in on her day (I'm ashamed to admit it... I only half listen to what she is saying, as I nod my head and keep saying uh huh, oh really, oh my gosh, I am really thinking about what I need to pick up at the store, where I am working tomorrow and my list of things to do the next day. I hate when I do this, but sometimes I get so overwhelmed that I cannot stay in the present.)

Oh shoot another red light...so I don't waste anytime, I pull the mirror down, fix my hair, rummage through my pocketbook for chap stick...oh crap, green light, they never stay red when you're trying to get things done. I flip the mirror back up and continue groping through my bag for my chap stick. My pocketbook is about the size of an overnight bag, so this could take a awhile. I finally find it, slap it on my cracked lips and continue on my way.



I pull up the street and as usual the lot is full, so I drive to the church lot, finally find a spot and run into the hall with Loula holding my hand and keeping up with me. We walk into the hall, I see Father John and say hello. I also see the woman in charge of the religion program and tell her what a wonderful job she is doing with the children. We all say the "Our Father", I kiss Loula goodbye and run out the door to my car.



Well, that wasn't so bad, got there on time, now I have to rush to Target's to get my nephew a Christmas present which is on sale. I search the store and can't find the toy that was advertized in the sale paper ,so I ask a sales lady to help me. She was so nice and patient and not to mention very helpful. We found it, thank God, it's the last one in the store. She helped me put it into the cart and I raced to the front to get on line. As I was passing a mirror I saw something that horrified me...I didn't put chap stick on, I put bright pink lipstick on.!!!Thinking that it was chap stick I didn't bother to stay within the lines of lips...Oh brother, leave it to me. So needless to say, I looked like a sight. As I continued towards the checkout I wiped my lips, (as best as I could) with the back of my hand. I just wanted to burst out laughing but I tried to stifle it, a giggle here and a giggle there escaped me. Not only did I have the lipstick smeared on me, but now I am laughing to myself. The thoughts were running through my head 'what must they think of me at religion...I must have looked like I had a little too much to drink... No wonder why the salesgirl was so nice and patient with me, she must have thought I was a little off!'

Thank God I can laugh at myself...I had the best laugh in the car in the parking lot of Target's...all by myself!